Losing My Memory
by Walkinthegarden
Summary: Triquel to Grenade and Never Let Me Go: When Monroe suddenly turns up after a mission gone wrong, it will take all the NCIS agents have to save her before she becomes another casualty. Can Callen really be objective where Monroe is involved? Or will his feelings for her get her killed?


Callen was restless, as he always seemed to be these days. Monroe was somewhere overseas on a need-to-know mission that involved deep cover. He hadn't spoken to her in almost a year. The only way he knew she hadn't forgotten him were the flowers that arrived at his home every friday like clockwork. They were always the same two flowers, chamomiles and zinnias.

Patience and thoughts of absent friends.

"Dude, G-man, stop sulking over there you're bumming me out," Deeks called from his desk as he continued to spin in his chair. Callen was just about to retort when his cellphone rang.

**'Blocked Number'**

Callen furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Sensing his partner's sudden mood shift, Sam straightened in his seat, ready to call Eric to have him trace the call.

"Callen," Callen answered cautiously.

"Callen, it's Monroe, I'm in trouble," came Monroe's distressed voice. She sounded frantic, a tone he hadn't heard from her in over twelve years.

~:~

The Director of the CIA smiled brightly at his Agents as he approached the podium. He was just about to give a speech that celebrated the three year anniversary of a new technology that both Callen and Monroe had been using that was about to extended to all CIA Agents. Monroe stood next to their shared father figure, looking more like a young girl then an Agent. Her caramel hair was prettily curled to frame her face and she was wearing a white sundress with red flowers. It was supposed to maximize her innocence and show her fellow agents just how easy it is to make people believe you aren't a spy. The technology she was was modeling was a shoe sensor that felt for vibrations and could alert the agent when someone was approaching and how many. "Today I am happy to announce that…"

Callen froze when the Director dropped suddenly, blood splashing across Monroe's face. She stood there, staring as the world around her fell into chaos. Agents screamed into their wrist mics, demanding to know where the shot came from, but Callen didn't pay them any attention. Instead he fought through the crowd, trying to get to her. She was standing in stunned silence, staring at the blood on her hand from where she'd touched her face to the man that had become a father to them. He watched as she dropped to her knees in front of him, crumbling before Callen's eyes as she pressed her hands into the bleeding wound. The Director's hand twitched, inching upwards slowly.

Finally Callen made it to her. She was half crying and half begging Stephan to stay awake. Callen grabbed her upper arms and called her name, trying to get her to move away, but she wouldn't.

"Stephan, please, please don't leave me. Please, Steph… Stephan, please don't," she sobbed, ignoring Callen as she cried. "Don't leave me, everybody leaves me."

Director Shields gave her a strained smile, the one a dying man gives his daughter, even if it wasn't by blood. "Beautiful girl," he whispered, ghosting his reaching fingers across the side of her cheek, "My Golden Girl, I love you."

"I love you too," she sobbed, clasping her hand around his as he slowly closed his eyes. She let out a wail of pain as his hand went lax in her own.

"Monroe, come on, we need to go," Callen told her, but again she ignored him, or maybe she didn't hear him.

"Everybody leaves me," she whispered through her tears, turning her beautiful eyes to look at him. With a sigh, Callen dropped to his knees next to her and took her bloody hand in his before bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

"I'll never leave you. I promise."

~:~

"Monroe? What's wrong? Where are you?" Callen demanded, already on his feet and reaching for his keys.

"Its not safe to speak on the phone. We need to meet. Our Safe Haven, half an hour, come alone." The line went dead. Callen closed his cell and took out the battery, tossing it onto his desk as he all but ran out the door, ignoring his team as they called after him.

Half an hour later, Callen was standing outside the Army Recruitment Center from when they were kids. It was the first place either of them had felt safe in a long time. They'd just been kids then.

~:~

"What happened to you two?" the recruitment officer asked the two beat up teenagers while they waited for a doctor on the exam room table at the ER. The hospital had tried to send them both to separate rooms, but the barely legal children had clasped their hands together and said they would refuse treatment if they weren't allowed to stay together. The way their eyes had grown wide with fear at the thought of being separated and the way they had grabbed on to one another as if their lives depended on it had easily made the hospital staff bend to their will. Even after an hour of waiting their hands remained joined, and it said something to the recruitment officer, it was a testimony to what they'd been through and against all odds, survived.

It was Monroe that turned to look at him, her eyes wide like a little girl's, but haunted like a grown warrior. Her words were clear and monotone, but they rang so true and so full of acceptance that they cut glass.

"The world forgot us."

An Army nurse came in with bandages and rubbing alcohol. She cleaned their wounds and tried to get them to tell her what happened, but the teenagers said nothing, their hands still clasped tightly. They didn't wince or flinch as the alcohol burned their wounds, making the Recruitment Officer's heart break as he thought of his own two children. Monroe laid her head against Callen's shoulder halfway through the cleaning and slowly closed her eyes while Callen whispered barely audible sounds of comfort.

When the nurse left, the Recruiter pulled up a chair and sat in front of them. The look in their eyes, the neutral mask of indifference that no child their age should have mastered, broke his heart. He reached out to take one of their hands but they both pulled away.

"I'm not going to lie to you and tell you the Army is without struggles, but your brothers and sisters will protect you and care for you. We can give you a family and we'll die to keep you safe," he promised.

They believed him.

They weren't disappointed.

~:~

Callen smiled to himself as he watched two teenagers, a boy and a girl, standing outside the recruitment center. The girl was sporting a black eye and the boy had his arm in a cast, but they were smiling up at the sign as if the recruitment center was the only place they had left in the world. They turned their heads and nodded to each other before entering.

"Throw a few more bruises, cuts, and broken bones on them and they could be us twenty five years ago," Monroe's voice said from behind him. It sounded dark, harboring barely contained insanity.

Callen spun around only to step back when he saw her. Monroe was standing in the shadows, her arm curled in to her side, a dark stain on her jeans with a crimson stained white piece of cloth tied around it, the left side of her face was purple, and both her right cheek and lip were split. He hadn't seen her look so beat up since they were children.

"Monroe, what happened?" Callen demanded as he helped his former partner into his car. "We need to get you to a hospital."

"No!" she replied harshly, wincing as she pressed her good hand to her ribs. "I've been compromised. There is a mole in the CIA. I walked right into a trap. I'm lucky I made it out of there alive."

"What was the mission? Where were you?" Callen asked as he started in the general direction of Headquarters.

"I was supposed to infiltrate a Colombian Terrorist group who has been smuggling in high grade explosives for the black market here in the US. For the most part we've been doing a pretty good job of intersecting them when they get here, but the CIA received intel that they're trying to make a dirty bomb. They sent me in as a grad student from MIT with a degree in biomedical engineering but I uncovered that my partner and his father, Director Frank Anderson, own the front company that is making the bomb. Now they've labeled me a rogue agent, armed and dangerous. They've been ordered to kill me on sight." Monroe winced as she shifted in his seat. Callen couldn't help but notice the evenness to her tone as she said those terrible words. You were supposed to trust your partner, but somehow the thought that her partner was responsible for trying to kill her didn't seem to phase her. She had been nearly hysterical on the phone and now she was cool and collected. She was cracking, he could see it.

"I'm taking you to Headquarters," he told her only to be silenced by her darkened eyes turning to him.

"No, you can't. I trust you and you trust your team but if my team finds out where I am they're going to kill me." Her words were hollow.

Callen nodded, understanding her reasoning and realizing it was a stupid suggestion anyway. He couldn't have NCIS accused of shielding a rogue agent. As he tried to figure out a battle plan he pulled into a cheap motel, leaving her in the car to pay for a room.

When he got back he helped her into the room and onto the edge of the bed while he checked the bathroom and closet like a good agent should.

"Okay Monroe, I'm going to go to the drugstore and get some stuff to treat that. I'm going to leave my gun here for you and go pick up a couple clean ones for you. After that I'm going to go back to Headquarters and see what I can dig up on these dirty agents," he told her, heading for the door. "We'll figure this out Monroe, I promise."

"I have nothing left anymore, Callen," she whispered, causing him to freeze at the door. He turned to face her. She was sitting at the edge of the bed, beat up like they were still teenagers locked in a basement. Her head was hanging and he knew she was expertly fighting back tears and trying to breath through the pain they'd both long ago stopped feeling. As ugly as it was, she was pretty right. She started with the perfect life, till her mother died when she was five. Her father took care of her, till both he and her brother were killed by a suicide bomber. With no family she was thrown into the foster system where she bounced from home to home being beaten and unloved until she landed in her own personal hell for over a year. They both ran away to the Army where they lost brothers and sisters in arms more days than not. They were both recruited to the CIA where they learned to love a new father figure only to watch him die before their eyes. She was raped and beaten on missions, but she fought it with all she had. He moved on, leaving her alone to the job she loved despite it all. Now her new partner's betrayed her and took away one of the only things she really loves, her job. She'd lost nearly everything, only one thing remained.

"You have me," he whispered in return, pulling her into a kiss. He just wasn't sure if he'd be enough.

When he came back she was gone, a note on the dresser.

_I'm sorry Cal. I know I dragged you into this but I've realized something, there is no scenario where I come out alive in the end. I won't let you die with me. You have something to live for, I don't. Find the bomb , clear my name. We've risked our lives our whole life, to protect the country we love and the people within it. Keep Americans safe. Keep America safe, as we always have._

I love you Callen. I'm sorry.

"Damn it!" Callen yelled, throwing his fist into the side of the dresser. Angrily he stuffed his hand into his pocket and took out his cell phone, hitting speed dial 3.

"Go for Eric."

"Eric, I need you to find out everything you can on Agent Sadie Monroe's partner and his father. The Columbians have a dirty bomb in the city and we need to find it," he yelled into the phone as he ran towards his car, the before Monroe does went unsaid.

~:~

"Why don't you run away? From these people, the first time they did this to you," Callen asked, turning to look Monroe. "Why'd you stay?"

Monroe furrowed her eyebrows, giving a small smile tugged at Callen's heart. She refused to look at him, but he still saw the tears that pooled in her eyes. "Um, because, it wasn't so bad at first. I'd been unloved for so long that I didn't mind so much. They only did it every few weeks and Joan would shower me with gifts and love. She would take me to go pick out a movie at the store for us to watch and she would cook my favorite foods. It was like she was my mom, the way a mom is supposed to be. The beatings weren't so awful that I couldn't forgive them. Then it started getting worse and worse, and the good became less and less, until all that was left was the evil." She gives him the softest smile he's ever seen on her face and he realized that it was the first time he saw her truly vulnerable.

~:~

"You're telling me that they placed a dirty bomb inside a high school?" Callen asked incredulously.

"It appears so. The school is going to be packed today. Two state senators and the governor are addressing the students about youth involvement in politics. Not only are all the students going to be there, but their parents, the press, security personnel, not to mention the seniors of three other local high school. There is an expected total of 10,000 people to be in attendance," Eric supplied as he continued to search the data on his pad.

"There's one more thing," Nell interjected, "the CIA have put a wanted dead or alive on Monroe. They've named her an enemy combatant."

"What?" Callen snapped, anger clouding his eyes. "She gives everything to be the very best agent she can and they make her a terrorist?"

"G…"

"No. We find Agent Anderson and his father and we clear her name."

"Right, but first we need to stop a dirty bomb from going off in our city. You need to focus G. Can you do that?" Sam challenged, his face serious as he observed his partner.

"If you have to ask me that, you don't know me at all," Callen replied.

"Okay then, we do this smart. Eric, can you pull up a blueprint of the school?" Eric nodded, clicking his pad twice before the desired print showed up on the large screen. "When we get there, Kensi, I want you to make a beeline for the head of security. Take to the side from and tell him about the threat. Then make your way to the opposite corner where Deeks will be and look out for any suspicious behavior," Sam explained, pointing the the corners before continuing. "The best place to put a dirty bomb would be the vent on the roof. G and I will make our ways up there. Let's go."

The team quickly broke up to do their respective tasks the minute they arrived. With guns drawn, Callen and Sam made their way up the stairs to the roof. Stopping for a fraction of a second when they heard an exchange of gunfire on the roof.

"Eric, we have gunfire on the roof."

_"Pulling up satellite image now."_ There was a pause before he continued. _"Okay it looks like there are four armed men on the roof, trading fire with… I can't make out there face. When you open the door there will be a large square metal object for you to take cover behind. Directly ahead of you will be shooter A and the other four will be foreword right."_

"Got it," Callen replied as he and Sam swung the door open engaging with the four shooters for a minute before ducking for cover. Giving Sam a nod, Callen peaked to the side in hopes of ID-ing shooter A. What he saw, shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did.

Monroe was pressed behind her cover, her gun pointed out in his direction even though the bullets flew over her head.

"Callen?" she called in question over the pops of the gunfire.

"You shouldn't be here!" he yelled in return, a slight smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. Even when everything had been taken from her, country came before it all.

"When has that ever stopped me?" she replied with a smile.

The blood suddenly drained from his face. Remembering her note, he realized why she was there.

_...there is no scenario where I come out alive in the end._

_We've risked … to protect the country we love and the people within it._

_...Keep America safe…_

She'd come to die for the country she loved. It was then he saw the bomb, of equal distance between them.

"I can defuse the bomb!"

"Wait!" Callen yelled in reply as Sam shot the third shooter, leaving one left, but Monroe never was one for following directions.

"One more G."

"Monroe!" Callen screamed as he watched the woman he loved more than anyone else run towards the bomb. She didn't slow down, not even glancing over his way. Sam's strong arms curled around Callen's waist as he tried to get to her; but, he was no match for a man trying to get to his partner. A hard pill to swallow, but Callen had made the choice of who his partner was. Monroe would always come before anyone else, anyone else. She cut the explosive with an expert hand, but not fast enough. The fourth shooter ducked up, giving Sam an easy shot, but not before three shoots buried themselves into Monroe's battered body.

"C-Callen," she stuttered, breathing heavily as her body fought to stay alive. "M-my p-pocket."

Callen nodded through his tears, reaching into her pocket to remove two sets of dog tags. He pressed them into her left palm and wrapped his hand around her other as she continued to shake. Her body convulsed slightly as she brought the hand with the dog tags to her chest, placing it on her heart.

~:~

"What's with the dog tags?" he asked one evening as the two fosters sat on their beds while the clock ticked behind them.

She stopped folding her clothes for a moment, not meeting his eye as a memory clearly overtook her. Finally she continued to fold and for a moment he thought she wouldn't answer. "My father and brother were both in the Army. I used to stay with a friend when they were deployed. Dad was a General so sometimes he would make a special trip over to see Jeremy. A suicide bomber came to their mess. I was ten years old when the dreaded car pulled up. My friend's mom told us to go inside but I couldn't move. I knew they were dead. I didn't have any other family."

~:~

"Monroe," he whispered, bringing his other hand up to stroke her hair.

"We… we'd a-lways known this w-would be h-how it'd end," she said with a strained smile, the smile of the dying, "D-didn't they a-always s-say I'd die in a hail of b-bullets?"

"No, you're stronger than this," he told her, begged her, "Fight this damn it!"

_"Bus en route. ETA 15."_

"Callen," she whispered with the softest of smiles as as she wrapped her fingers around his outer palm, "this was how it w-was always g-going to be. We nev-ver would ha-ve been healthy together. We've g-gone through t-to much."

"Monroe, don't-"

"Marry me," she whispered, stunning her partner into silence.

~:~

"What is one thing you want to do before you die?" Monroe asked as she turned to look at her fellow Army officer.

Callen shrugged his shoulders, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Find out my name. What about you?"

"Get married," she said with a smile, "My father said he was always happiest with my mom. He said it felt like he was sleeping until the day he married her. I want that feeling, like someone is so much a part of me that they've awakened me from myself."

~:~

He wanted to tell her that they could get married the right way, with flowers and too expensive rental tuxedos, but he knew she wouldn't make it. She was dying, a rogue CIA Agent considered an enemy combatant by the country she dies to protect.

With tear-filled eyes, Callen looked up to face Sam. "You married your cousins a few years ago, right? Marry us."

"G…"

"Please."

With a sigh, Sam nodded, aware that everyone could hear the situation over the mics.

"T-thank you," Monroe whispered as Callen began to shift her so her body draped against his chest. He knew you weren't supposed to move someone after they've been shot, but he also knew she wasn't going to make it long enough for help.

It was a heartbreaking scene. He held her through the whole of the little "ceremony" despite her drooped eyes and lax body. They continued anyway, as if she were standing in front of a minister with blood in her cheeks and a smile on her face. Kensi and Deeks made it just in time for the end.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride."

Monroe no longer held the strength to smile, but Callen kissed her blue lips anyway. He pressed them against hers briefly before pulling back to look her in the eye.

"I love you," she whispered before her eyes shut for the last time.

~:~

Callen and Monroe both laughed for the first time since leaving their dreadful foster home as Callen spun the brunette around the grass covered ground. The pair had just returned from basic training a few weeks previous only to find an invitation to their recruitment officer's annual Memorial Day Barbeque sitting on the beds of their barracks. While neither teenager had had any desire to go, they'd both decided that it was expected of them.

They'd been greeted with wide smiles and open arms. The Recruiter's wife, Delilah, had instantly fussed over them as if she'd known them their whole life and their children had latched onto them like they were long lost beloved godparents. Before long, the Ghost Children (as fellow Army personnel had dubbed them) were actually smiling and having a good time. For a frozen moment they were able to push away the weight of the world and just be kids.

Delilah and her husband stood to the side, conversing with anyone and everyone, but they never stopped watching them. They took pride in opening the children's dead hearts, if only for a few hours.

For just that moment, they weren't forgotten at all.

~:~

Callen sat quietly on the couch to the side of the bullpen. It was late and everyone had already gone home, leaving him to his thoughts as they knew he needed.

In his hand was a wallet size photograph. The edges were worn and the color was mostly faded, but the picture was still as clear as day, and so was the emotion that came with it. It was one of only three pictures Callen and Monroe had of the two of them.

It was a picture of one of the few good times they had in that place they called hell. Joan and Todd had decided to cook dinner outside on the grill. They'd been encouraged to play and act silly, as if they were a real family. Callen had still been sore from the injuries of the first night, but he'd still hoisted her up and onto his back. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and her arms were choking him around his neck. Still they were laughing, real laughter. The sun behind them, illuminating them in the summer glow, had been what caused Joan to take a picture of their perfect moment.

It was probably to show their social worker, as his jeans and t-shirt and her black leggings under her denim shorts and elbow length sleeve shirt had been crucial in covering up the evil that had been inflicted upon them.

Still, the moment was one of the happiest of his life.

"You didn't deserve to die like that," he whispered.

"No, she didn't," Hetty replied from behind him. Callen didn't bother to hide his tears as he turned to look at her.

"I could have turned out just like her."

"No, you couldn't have. She'd been there too long. You did what she never could, she was never going to be able to live any other way. She gave up long before you ever met her. Those people took her and broke her to the point where she could never recover. You know that Mr. Callen."

"It doesn't stop me from missing her."

"No Mr. Callen," Hetty replied earnestly, "it doesn't."

Callen took a long sabbatical from NCIS in order to grieve his wife's death the only way he knew how, by finding Agent Anderson and the Director and punishing them for what they had done. It took over a year, but he did avenge his wife, and those responsible never got so far as to need a trial.

* * *

**A/n I just don't think Callen would be able to let whoever killed Monroe live. Speaking of which, I feel terrible for killing off Monroe, but I honestly couldn't see her ending any other way. I hope I got how I wanted her to be across, basically she's two extremes, a child that needs to be cared for or a slightly reckless BA who will sacrifice everything for her country. I'm going to miss writing her, she has so many sides. Let me know what you think! Constructive criticism welcome.**


End file.
